The Prince and the Bird
by PlanetOfTheWeepingWillow
Summary: A short fantasy story about freedom and friendship centered around Prince Lukas, who is kept in his castle for fear that his curse may destroy the entire kingdom.


The Young Prince Lukas longed for beauty. He was beautiful himself, but mirrors had been banished from his room and the entire castle for fear he may cast an enchantment. In fact, anything of the remotest attractiveness was thrown from the castle and he was locked indoors, seeing only Aurora's rosy fingers and the moon shine up above. Lukas was starved for beauty, so much so that he found the tomes in the library and read of it all.

He read of Silverwater, a Queen of such remarkable beauty that any eyes that met her turned the color of silver and the beholder seemed to shine for years afterwards. Then Silverrain, a unicorn the color of mist, galloped through the lands and dragged the sun behind him, for the sun longed too to see the unicorn's fine hide and glossy mane. Lukas, having even delved into the dark histories for a chance at beautiful description, had read the library twice over. His father, the King, discovered him crowded under golden lamplight, scouring the ancient, muddled histories of dwarves and ordered him to his room, where he locked him away.

Lukas remained in his room for a long time, nearly a year, with his meals slid in through the door, and banished from all but his window. Lukas leaned against the window one fine spring evening, sighing deeply. If only a young woman would race past him on a noble stead or a young prince, charming in every respect, pass just barley within eyesight!

Lukas could have been considered one of these fine princes. His eyes were the color of pond water (the kind you want to bathe in) and his hair the color of fine sand. He did not know this because he had seen neither pond nor sand. Lukas had only read of them. His hair was clipped up with a golden clip in the shape of the cross, and his clothing of drab fabrics.

"You must not, not ever, wear clothing of silk and linen. Do you understand, my Son?" His father had said when he was but a young boy having raided a closet to peer and examine.

"Father, I do not understand why."

"I do this for your safety, and for our safety," the King explained, bending on one great knee, his wise, once merry eyes twinkling. "An enchantress was greatly jealous of your mother's beauty once, long ago. On the day of your birth (what a joyous day indeed!) she cursed your mother to death and you to lack all beauty. She saw at once how lovely a son you were and she flew into such a rage she bellowed: 'if that boy ever sees anything so remotely beautiful as he, then he shall curse the kingdom to darkness and plague!' So, do you understand now?"

"Yes, Father."

Now, in the chill morning, with a layer of dew still coating the blades of grass like glitter, Lukas cursed the enchantress and turned away from his window, looking to his bleak bead and his sad armoire, without a mirror, and looking more like a kitchen cupboard.

"Why do you grieve so?"

Lukas started, rounding on the speaker. But there was no person there. The only disturbance came from a small, delicate bird perched on his window sill. It tilted its head, gazing at him with one eye, and then pecked at its smooth white wings, the color of freshly fallen snow.

"Who spoke to me?" Lukas summed a brave and mighty voice.

"I did." The voice came again, sounding like the tinkling of bells.

It came from the bird.

Lukas approached it. Had he a dagger or blade at his side, he would have clutched it, but there was nothing. "Why, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever set my eyes upon! But, alack, I cannot see such prettiness." Lukas turned away, shielding the vision with his palm. His heart raced, for fear the kingdom would be swallowed by morose night.

Outside, nothing changed. A little breeze fluttered by and the clouds shifted.

"No, you may look." The bird said. Then it twittered, like a laugh, but proving it was only a beast of earth, of nature.

"You then know why I grieve, dear Bird."

"But, good Prince," the bird twittered again, but this time it came as a muffled coo, something so sad that Lukas felt compelled to approach it. "Good Prince, please take me into your room and hide me."

"I may, if I know your name, dear Bird."

"I am of no name."

"Where do you come from?"

"I come from a far, far distance. I come from a cage and I have escaped, but it is nowhere, for I now belong to the wind and air and not a place."

"You are noble and wise in your words. Come forth. But you mustn't let my father see you."

"That should not be a problem, Prince," The bird hopped into the room, its color turned to grey, but still glowing faintly. "I shall only stay one night."

The bird remained for one night, speaking to the Prince and bringing him comfort far greater than he could have imagined. They spoke until the final dark of night, where they both fell into a comfortable, fulfilling sleep one only achieves when they nearly stayed up the entire night.

But at daybreak the bird left with a peck at Lukas's sleeping cheeks, as a means of goodbye.

Lukas longed for the bird, and for three days she did not return, for she had told him that she was female and raised two children once, but both had perished to cold.

On the third day the bird returned, this time smaller than usual.

"You return, dear Bird. Do you wish to come in again?" Lukas said.

"Yes, I do." The bird hopped in.

That night they spent sharing secrets and became very good friends. Lukas grew fond of the bird and petted her head with one finger. Lukas even smuggled in several bread crumbs for her to feed on. The following morning she left again with another tiny peck at his cheek.

Another three days passed, and this time the bird returned feeble and limp.

"Dear Bird!" He cried, for no other words could escape him. He rushed to the window and cupped his palms, holding the bird in his palms.

Both its legs were weak, one split, and neither of much worth.

"Stay here this time, dear Bird. I would not be able to see you harmed."

The bird did not answer to this.

The following morning she left again.

The meetings continued like this. She lost her sight, her feathers, and soon her wings.

Finally, on the night she felt her life's breath slipping out of her golden beak, Lukas cradled her in his arms. Large tears welled in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks like raindrops.

"Dear Bird, dear Bird, please tell me what happened to you?"

"I was cursed upon leaving my cage. I thought I could survive it, but remaining here with you has shown me, since we are so very alike, that it was better to be cursed. It was better to be cursed than to live in a cage without my freedom, dear Prince."

His final voice faded with a twittered and Lukas, still weeping over the loss of his secret, and only, friend. He was tempted to set her in the earth, but it would be only another cage, and so, instead, he wrapped her in a napkin and told his most trusted nurse to take him to the ground and leave him on the good soil. She obeyed.

Lukas thus took it upon himself to utter his next few words to his father, bowing low.

"Lacerate my image, dear Father, for I cannot remain caged."

* * *

_I do not own Hetalia. _

_This story is based off of the Arabic song titled (in our letters) "3assfour tal mne chebak w ali nounou". _


End file.
